


Pumpkin Pies and Latte Art

by raiseyourpinky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Dean Loves Pie, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, No Angst, Restaurant owners, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 11:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12958353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiseyourpinky/pseuds/raiseyourpinky
Summary: Dean's pumpkin pies are a favorite at the Roadhouse during the holiday season. Except, this year, the vegan restaurant across the street is offering a disgusting vegan pumpkin pie. Dean already dislikes Heaven's Bistro's owner, but now it's personal.





	Pumpkin Pies and Latte Art

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, everyone!

It was close to Christmas, and Dean’s diner was packed. The Roadhouse did well year-round, but the holidays brought in twice as many customers. Dean didn’t like to brag, but he knew his homemade pumpkin pies were a big hit. He’d learned the recipe from his mom, who’d learned the recipe from her mom, and the deliciousness was too much to resist.

Jo had decided to decorate the place and make it even more Christmasy. She’d hung up colorful lights, had the place smelling like cinnamon, and even brought in a miniature tree for the front counter. On top of that, she’d convinced Dean to add eggnog and pumpkin spiced coffee into the menu. Despite the extra flow the holiday brought in for the place, Dean wasn’t the biggest fan of Christmas. It was just another holiday, nothing to get excited about. Dean was usually so busy around the holiday that he rarely took the time to go Christmas shopping, so his friends and family usually just got gift cards from him.

Christmas was, in simpler terms, a nuisance.

But Dean would have been fine getting through the holiday had it not been for the stupid restaurant across the street. Heaven’s Bistro wasn’t even a competing restaurant. They didn’t sell any of the items Dean sold. How could they? Heaven’s Bistro—which by the way, was a pretentious name to begin with—was a vegan restaurant. Yeah, that’s right. A food place that didn’t serve, well, food. Dean shuddered to think what their menu looked like. He hadn’t glanced at it when Ash had brought it over one day.

When the place opened up last year, Dean wasn’t bothered by it. He figured a place like that would shut down within a few months. It didn’t take a genius to predict that. A vegan restaurant in the middle of Kansas? Who the hell would eat that? Well, as it turns out, a hell of a lot of people did eat that. Heaven’s Bistro was the trendiest place in town, and a lot of outsiders drove in just to eat there. Dean could never understand why anyone would choose a salad over one of his cheeseburgers. And yeah, okay, Jo had explained to Dean that the place served more than just salads, but still. A fake burger was a fake burger, and Dean was baffled to think _anyone_ would eat there without having a gun to their heads.

But Dean’s issues with Heaven’s Bistro were also somewhat centered around its owner. You see, Heaven’s Bistro had sort of a new age appearance. The owner was one of those holier than thou type of guys. Dean had only seen him a few times here and there. It was impossible not to run into him with their restaurants being so close together. Here’s all Dean knew about the guy. 1). His name was Castiel. 2). He wore slacks and colorful waistcoats, usually paired up with bright scarves. 3). He had an obsession with his cell phone because he checked it all the time. 4). He hated meat and dairy products, the barbarian. 5). Whenever Dean tried to smile and wave at him, the guy lifted his eyebrows at him and walked away.

So yeah, it was pretty clear that the owner of Heaven’s Bistro was nothing but a jackass with a stupid restaurant that shouldn’t even be called a restaurant.

But Dean digressed.

The Roadhouse didn’t have any competition. Not during Christmas, anyway. Not when Dean had so many faithful customers showing up for his pumpkin pie. They were going faster than ever. The day so far had been running smoothly. No one had complained about any of the food. No one had been rude to Jo or Ash or Kevin. Dean was, all in all, content.

But then Dean saw it. He saw one of Heaven’s Bistro’s employee—dressed all in white, which was a very stupid decision—putting up a bright new sign. They were advertising something. Dean couldn’t trust his eyes from behind the counter. He moved to the front door where he could see better across the street. And he saw it. A pumpkin pie. A _vegan_ pumpkin pie, now sold at Heaven’s Bistro.

Dean was seeing red now. He was going to march across the street, grab that waistcoat-wearing hippie by his scarf, and yell at him for stealing his trademark. Who the hell did Castiel think he was? The asshole didn’t have any original ideas to bring in new customers? Was that it? Well, he’d better prepare himself, ‘cause Dean was coming.

Before Dean could storm out of the Roadhouse, he felt a hand pulling him back. It was Jo, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Let me go,” Dean said, glaring back at the offending sign. “It’s about time someone told that asshole the truth about the place he’s running.”

“You’re overreacting,” Jo said, her hold loosening on his arm.

“Did you see the sign?”

“I saw it,” Jo said. “But you don’t have the rights over pumpkin pie. What are you going to say to him? You can’t sell pie because I said so? Just calm down, Dean.”

Dean took a deep breath, unclenching his fists. “It’s fucking vegan, Jo. The pie. It’s vegan. I can’t even imagine what that would taste like.”

Jo let out a soft chuckle. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that, do you? Here, come sit down and have a piece of your own pie. Get that evil vegan pie out of your head.”

Dean nodded, letting Jo lead him to a seat at the counter, where she placed a big piece of pumpkin pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. Dean took one bite, and his mood was ten times better. But then it occurred to him that the vegan pie across the street was being served without ice cream, and his mood was sour again. God, that asshole was ruining everything.

“It’s not real pie,” Dean mumbled to himself.

“Hang in there, buddy,” Kevin said, carrying a burger and fries on a plate. “Let me drop this order off and I’ll bring you a coffee.”

Dean smiled. His friends were too good to him. He didn’t deserve them.

Kevin brought over one of his special lattes. He’d drawn a little figure on top. It was an uncanny image of Doctor Sexy, from Dean’s favorite TV show. Dean started laughing, nearly toppling off his chair. Kevin smiled before he walked away with another order.

The door opened, and Ash came in covered in a big jacket. His nose was pink from the cold outside. Dean hadn’t noticed that he left in the first place. Ash looked over at Dean and grinned as he stepped closer to him.

“Hey, man, you want some pie?” Dean asked.

“About the pie,” Ash said, sitting beside Dean. “I did something a little crazy.”

Dean stared at him. “Did you poison the pie?”

“No, dude, I didn’t poison anything.” Ash laughed. “I just went over to Heaven’s Bistro to talk to the owner about that pie he’s selling.”

“You did what?” Dean was out of his seat in an instant. He glanced over at Heaven’s Bistro, but all he could see was the large amount of people inside the place.

“Yeah, he was really cool about it too,” Ash said. “Dude just said that he was going to come over in a few hours to talk to you about the issue. He said he didn’t want any sort of rivalry.”

“What?” Dean was stunned. That was the last thing he’d expected from the guy. He’d been so uptight during all their previous interactions. Dean almost wondered if Ash had really talked to him, and not to one of his white-covered minions.

Ash shrugged. “I figured that was the best thing to do, ‘cause knowing you, Dean, you’re never gonna let this whole pie thing go.”

Dean wanted to argue, but he knew Ash was right. Dean would have obsessed about that damned pie until the sign went down. He hoped the sign would go down eventually. If Castiel decided to sell that atrocity year-round, he had another thing coming.

For the rest of the day, Dean looked nervously at the door every time it opened. He hated that Castiel hadn’t given an exact time when he’d show. Now Dean had to be on guard all the time. He didn’t have a moment to rest. Good thing his customers kept him busy. He spent most of the day in the kitchen, cooking up warm meals. It was around six o’clock when things slowed down a bit, and Dean sat at a booth in the corner. He just had to rest his legs for a little bit. The diner closed at 8pm, which was early for customers, but late for his employees. He didn’t want to keep people from their homes so late.

Dean pulled out his phone to text his brother. Sam had called in the morning, but Dean had missed the call. When he tried to call him back, Sam hadn’t answered. This happened a lot with them. Sam was a busy guy, and it was easier to have a conversation with his answering machine than with Sam himself.

_Hey, Sammy, sorry I missed you this morning. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?_

Dean set his phone down and yawned. He slouched back on his seat, and closed his eyes, feeling the warm air from the vents above him. In what felt like seconds later, Dean was shaken from his sleep. How long had he been asleep? Dean woke with a start, glaring up at whoever had disturbed him from his rest.

When he noticed unfamiliar blue eyes staring back at him, Dean widened his own green eyes. It took him a moment to realize he was staring right at Castiel, waistcoat and scarf on. Castiel tilted his head to the side, a very odd gesture, like Dean was being examined, and Dean felt exposed. He sat up immediately, clearing his throat.

“Hey,” Dean said groggily. “Uh, have a seat.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows and sat down across from Dean. His movements were smooth, almost practiced. He looked intimidating as hell. But Dean couldn’t help but take in his features. The wild brown hair, the five o’clock shadow, the neck tattoo. Whoa, Castiel had a neck tattoo? It was hard to see it clearly with the scarf he wore, but Dean caught the shape of wings.

“You must be Dean,” Castiel said.

Dean flicked his eyes from Castiel’s neck to his eyes, which were very intense. They were nice, too, a lovely shade of blue. Dean figured he was still half-asleep to be thinking the asshole’s eyes were _lovely_.

“And you’re Castiel?” Dean asked. Of course he knew he was Castiel. He’d known about Castiel for a year now. Dean was surprised to know that Castiel knew his name, though.

“I am,” Castiel said, his face blank. The guy really had a stick up his ass. Probably from all the lack of meat in his system.

“Ash said he went to talk to you today.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “About the pie.”

“One of your employees did speak to me earlier.” Castiel’s voice was deep, but almost monotone. It was like he had no emotions. “He mentioned that you were very upset about my new pumpkin pie item. I am aware that you sell a seasonal pumpkin pie every winter. It is, in fact, the reason why I’ve added the item to my menu.”

“So you’re just stealing my idea?”

“You created pumpkin pie?” Castiel raised one eyebrow, challenging.

“No, but I sell the best damn pumpkin pie in town,” Dean said, leaning forward. “It’s a family recipe. It brings people in.”

Castiel’s lips twitched, just slightly. “Dean,” he said, and it was said in such a hypnotizing way that Dean moved forward even more. “I am aware that your diner is very beloved in the neighborhood. Many of my customers praise it. However, many of my customers are strictly vegan, and they have requested a pumpkin pie to fit their dietary needs. They, just like everyone else, want to try your pie, but since you offer no vegan options for them, I’ve decided to provide it.”

“Is that right?” Dean asked, skeptical.

“I have nothing to hide, Dean. I’m simply trying to run my business on the other side of the street. I don’t want to step on your toes. All I want is to continue running smoothly. Do you still have an issue with my dessert option?”

Dean didn’t want to be the asshole in this situation. As much as it hurt that people wanted tasteless vegan pie over his family recipe, he knew he had no fight to give. Castiel made a good point. Besides, it wasn’t like he could force the guy to take it down. Dean had no authority.

“Look, you can serve whatever your heart desires,” Dean said. “It’s your restaurant. I’ll talk to my employees so they don’t go running to your place whenever you put up a new item. It’s fine. No harm done.”

Castiel nodded once. “Very well. I’m glad we understand each other.”

“Yeah, me too.” Dean tried to force a smile, but he knew it didn’t look genuine.

Castiel didn’t even bother with pleasantries. He rose from his seat, hovered for a few seconds with his eyes glued to Dean, and then turned to walk out the door.

Dean watched him cross the street without double checking for traffic. On top of everything, the guy was pretty reckless.

 

***

 

Dean had dinner with Sam the following day. They ate at Sam’s apartment because sometimes it was just too much work trying to get Sam to leave his place. Sam was a law student, and he took his role very seriously. He was cramming for tests all day long, and he hardly ate anything. That’s why Dean had started these weekly dinners with his brother. At least Dean knew that Sam had one good meal a week. And he pestered him every other day to remember to eat something warm at least once a day. Sam was big on sandwiches, but you couldn’t live on sandwiches alone.

Dean showed up with a chicken casserole and one of his pumpkin pies for dessert. He had to force Sam to stop studying so he could sit down and eat with Dean. Sam made a big fuss, but eventually relented. They sat at the table, eating in comfortable silence as the TV played some polar bear documentary.

“Any plans for Christmas?” Sam asked, chewing on his salad. Dean only brought salad for his brother, ‘cause the guy loved it so much. It was a miracle they were related at all.

Dean shrugged. “Same old, I guess. Ellen’s cooking, I’m bringing pie and beer, and Jo’s probably going to make some of her homemade ice cream. I like her mango one better than the mint one she tried making last year.”

Sam continued chewing, nodding his head. “Well, I was thinking about bringing someone this year. You think that’d be okay?”

“Yeah, who’d you wanna bring? One of your school friends?”

“Actually, yeah. Well, she was in undergrad with me, and I hadn’t seen her for a year, but I ran into her at the store last week.”

“Huh. What’s her name?”

“Jess.” Sam lowered his head, like he was embarrassed. No, no, he was shy. Dean recognized all the signs from the time Sam had his first girlfriend in high school. Dean hadn’t liked Ruby, but they hadn’t lasted long. “She’s a really good friend, Dean. And she’s in med school. She’s probably busier than me most of the time. Her family lives out of state, and she can’t travel this year. I didn’t know what to do.”

Dean grinned, elbowing Sam on the ribs. “Sounds like you have a crush there, lover boy.”

Sam blushed, right on cue. “Dean, come on. I’m not a child.”

“No, but you’re sure acting like one.” Dean laughed. “Bring your girl over. I’m sure Ellen and Bobby will tease you to death, but that’s the price to pay.

Sam sighed. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about Ellen and Bobby.”

“You like this girl, don’t you?”

Sam nodded, digging his hands in his hair.

“Then you gotta put her to the test,” Dean said. “If she can put up with our family, then she’s golden. Look, Sammy, you’ve been alone for too long. I think this is good for you.”

“What about you, Dean? Are you seeing anyone?”

Dean shifted on his seat, poking at his food to keep his hands busy. “Nah, I haven’t dated anyone since Lisa.”

“That was two years ago.”

“So what? I don’t need anyone. I’m happy with the way things are right now. You don’t need to worry about me, alright, Sammy? You got enough on your plate as it is.”

Sam looked at Dean for a while, until he seemed okay to drop the subject altogether. “By the way, did you notice the vegan place across the street from the Roadhouse is selling pumpkin pie now?”

Dean nearly choked on his chicken. He sipped his soda to get it down.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, waving a hand. “I noticed the damn sign. Actually talked to the owner. He’s weird.”

“Is it that guy that’s always wearing a scarf?”

Dean sighed. “That’s the one. He has a neck tattoo, you know.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “Why were you staring at his neck, Dean?”

“I wasn’t! He was just there. Came over to talk to me about the pie. He was nice enough about it, but the dude talks like a robot. I got a weird vibe from him.”

“Well, at least he talked to you about it. I’ve heard his food is good, but I don’t know how I’d feel about vegan pumpkin pie.”

“Honestly, Sammy, makes me sick to even think about it.”

Sam laughed. “Okay, don’t be so dramatic.”

“I feel sorry for the guy. With his attitude, he probably doesn’t have any friends.”

“I’ve never heard any complaints about him.” Sam shrugged. “I read Yelp reviews of the Roadhouse and every other shop around. You never know, Dean. If a place shuts down, real competition could crawl right in its place.”

Dean didn’t need to worry about that right now. “Thanks for looking out for me, Sammy. I’m just hoping we get through this holiday season without any bumps on the road.”

Sam raised his water—because he actually preferred water over soda. “To a good Christmas.”

“And a crappy New Year?” Dean raised his own glass.

Sam shook his head. “Sure. Why not?”

They clinked their drinks.

 

***

 

Three days later, Dean found a box in his office at the Roadhouse. No one went inside his office besides Jo, so he called for her as he stepped closer to it.

The box was white, but on the side there was a logo written in blue ink. Heaven’s Bistro. There was a little golden halo over the H.

“What’s up?” Jo asked, standing on the doorway.

“Why’s there a box from the evil vegan place on my desk?”

Jo scrunched her nose. “Oh, yeah. One of Castiel’s white minions brought it over this morning. He didn’t say anything. Just came in, put it on the counter, and left. I read the note.”

Dean picked up the note on top of the box. It was written in cursive: _Dean, thank you for being so understanding. – Cas_

“Cas?” Dean asked. “Castiel sent me this box? Why?”

Jo looked as clueless as Dean sounded. “Open it up. Maybe it’s a present.”

Dean snorted. “A present? Yeah, right.” But he opened it up anyway. Inside the box, there was a pie. It looked and smelled like a pumpkin pie, but Dean wasn’t going to taste it. “He sent me one of his vegan pies. I can’t believe him. Who does he think he is? Who does he think _I_ am?”

“Maybe he’s just being nice.”

“Nice?” Dean closed the lid on the box. “He’s not being nice. He’s taunting me. He wants me to try his fake pie and probably get food poisoning.”

“Why would he want that?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Dean mumbled. “I got an idea.”

“Oh, no. Dean, what are you thinking?”

Dean grinned, heading to the kitchen to grab one of their own to-go boxes. His boxes were plain and didn’t have a fancy logo, but that didn’t matter. Dean grabbed one of his freshly baked pies from the cooling rack and put it inside. He also grabbed a pint of vanilla ice cream. After putting all the items in a bag, he grabbed his coat.

“Are you really taking him one of your pies?” Jo asked, crossing her arms.

“Hell yeah. I’m not letting him win this round.”

“What round? This isn’t a competition. I thought you guys talked it out last time he was here.”

Dean put on his blue beanie—he didn’t like beanies but it was a gift from Sam so he decided to wear it when it was especially cold. Today, it was below freezing. “Doesn’t matter what happened last time. He obviously didn’t want to leave it at that. He wants to start something. I saw it in his eyes. The guy’s vicious. He wants to steal all my customers. I know it.”

“What’s going on?” Kevin asked.

Jo rolled her eyes. “Dean’s overreacting again.”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Ash said, raising his hands. “I didn’t do anything this time.”

“Castiel sent him a pie,” Jo said.

Kevin frowned. “Why is that such a bad thing?”

“Exactly what I’m trying to tell him,” Jo said.

“That’s low,” Ash said. “The man sent one of his pies when he knows nothing can top one of Dean’s pies. He’s daring him to try it. He thinks his pie is better than Dean’s.”

Dean pointed at Ash. “Yes!”

“Don’t encourage him,” Jo told Ash.

“I’m just calling it how it is.”

“You’re making it worse,” Kevin said.

“I’m going over there,” Dean said, determined. He was all covered up in his leather jacket and beanie, with the plastic bag in his hand. He walked over to the entrance and opened the door.

The chilling air hit him right in the face like a punch. It was so cold it hurt, all the way to his bones. Dean stopped on the sidewalk to look for traffic before he crossed the street. He stood outside of Heaven’s Bistro for a few moments, glaring up at the sign with the same logo that was on the box. He shivered from the cold. It was now or never. Dean pushed inside.

The first time he noticed upon entering Heaven’s Bistro was the warmth. Compared to the outside, walking in here felt like being covered up in cozy blankets after a long day out. The air smelled like Christmas morning, with a mixture of cinnamon, pumpkin, and chocolate. The walls were painted a light blue, with a few art pieces resembling angels adorning the empty spaces. The tables were all unique, some rounded and some squared, and there were couches were people could just lounge. The floor was covered in black tiles that somehow sparkled. Despite the large amount of people in the place, it didn’t feel crowded. Dean was able to walk between the tables to the front counter, where one of the white minions greeted him with a smile.

“Good afternoon,” she said. “What can I get you today?”

Dean looked behind her at the large menu. They had a wide variety of options. Things he’d never heard of. “I just need to talk to Cas—Castiel. The owner.”

“Oh.” The girl looked surprised. “Let me get him for you. Wait one second.” She turned and went around the corner into what looked like the kitchen. Dean was still reading from the menu when he saw Castiel walking out of the kitchen, eyebrows raised when he noticed Dean.

“Dean.” The way Castiel said his name sent another shiver up Dean’s spine.

“Hey. I came to talk to you.”

“Is there something wrong?” Castiel asked, rounding the counter to stand in front of Dean. He glanced at the bag in Dean’s hand. “Are you returning the pie I sent over earlier?”

“Uh, no, I’m actually bringing you one of my own.” Dean handed over the bag. “I packed some ice cream in there too. It’s homemade.”

Castiel accepted the bag, still looking at Dean with an uncomfortable intensity. “Are you busy right now?”

Dean was taken aback by the question. “N-no. Not really. It’s not rush hour yet anyway.”

“Great.” Castiel broke into a smile, gums and everything. It was so out of place that Dean stumbled back a few steps. “Sit with me.”

Dean moved almost mechanically, following Castiel as he led him to a small table on the side of the room. The chair was cushioned so well that Dean felt he could sit in it forever.

Castiel set the bag on the table and took out the contents. Then he glanced at Dean. “What would you like to drink? Coffee, tea, soda?”

“Coffee’s fine,” Dean said, still unsure of what was happening. He’d meant to come here, shove the pie in Castiel’s hands, and leave with a victory smile. He never thought he’d end up sitting with him over coffee.

Castiel nodded, getting out of his seat. He returned with a knife, two small plates, two spoons, and two coffees. One of his minions was helping him carry all of that, and he set up the table.

Dean couldn’t help but stare as Castiel cut up the pie, serving each of them a piece, and then scooped some ice cream on top of both of them.

“How do you take your coffee, Dean?” Castiel asked the question as though he’d asked the question a hundred times before. As though they did this sort of thing all the time.

“With milk and sugar, please.”

Castiel smiled again, and then he left again, and came back with a small container of milk and a small container of sugar. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, squinting his eyes at Castiel as he prepared his coffee. What was he up to? And where was the guy with the robotic voice?

Castiel took a bite of his pie, and he closed his eyes as he chewed. A small moan rumbled in his throat, and Dean froze, watching him. The man was sinful. It was barely noon, for crying out loud, but Dean felt suddenly exhausted. “This is quite delicious. I’ve always heard it’s great, but I’ve never had the pleasure of trying it before. I was clearly missing out.”

“You like it?” Dean asked, his throat dry. He sipped his coffee.

“It’s amazing,” Castiel said, and he sounded genuine. “The ice cream compliments the taste of the pumpkin as well. Did you make it?”

“No, actually one of my friends made the ice cream.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Her name’s Jo. She makes really good ice cream usually, but sometimes it’s just too bad to eat. She likes to experiment with her flavors.”

Castiel smiled again. “This one is incredible.”

“I’ll pass the message along.” Dean took a bite of his own pie. It was really good, of course. But that wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was that Castiel seemed to be really enjoying it. This was not at all what Dean had expected when he’d walked out of the Roadhouse. “Your place looks nice.”

Castiel wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Thank you. I decorated most of it, though I can’t take all the credit. My brother Gabriel helped me come up with most of the menu items, and he picked out the name. I’m not exactly vegan, though I don’t eat meat frequently. But my brother believed that vegan food was the way to go, and since his recipes are quite tasty, I couldn’t pass up on the offer.”

Dean found himself leaning forward, elbows sliding on the table. “So you run this place with your brother?”

“Yes, we’re co-owners. Gabriel’s usually in here cooking because he likes to be hands-on. I don’t cook so much as supervise the operations.”

“I like to be hands-on too,” Dean said around a mouthful. “I cook most of the food, and all of the pies.”

“Did you try the pie I sent you?” Castiel asked, lowering his fork.

Dean felt his ears warm up. “No. I haven’t tried it yet.”

Castiel didn’t look put out by that. “Well, when you do, I’d appreciate the feedback. I’m the one making the pies, and I’m not sure how good they taste. I fear my customers and employees are too kind to ever give me constructive criticism. So far all the comments have been positive, but I still think it needs something.” Castiel lowered his head. “In fact, it’s the reason I sent you that pie. I thought you would be the only person blunt enough to tell me the truth.”

Dean felt something squeeze his chest. All this time, Dean had been on the lookout, expecting Castiel to challenge him, thinking his vegan pie was better than Dean’s, but he was just looking for approval. Castiel wanted to feel confident in his baking, and he sought out Dean for help. And Dean felt like a total jackass at the moment.

“I’ll try it as soon as I get back,” Dean promised. “And I’ll give you my honest feedback.”

Castiel smiled again, a smile that reached all the way to his eyes. “Thank you again. And I apologize if I was a bit off last time we spoke. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. Issues with my personal life that I don’t intend to bore you with. But things are much better now, and I’d like to start over.” Castiel extended his hand. “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel Novak. I own the place across the street from your diner. I hope we can be friends.”

Dean laughed softly, shaking Castiel’s hand. “I’d like that. And hey, being my friend comes with benefits. I make lots of pies.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Really? What kind?”

“All kinds. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow and I’ll let you taste them?”

“I’ll be there,” Castiel said with a nod.

Dean felt a little dizzy from staring at Castiel’s blue eyes and wide smiles, but he didn’t want to move from his seat right across from him. Not for any reason.

But then he looked at the clock. And Dean was out of his seat.

“Crap. I have to get back to the diner.”

Castiel stood with him. “I will see you tomorrow, Dean.”

Dean grinned. “I’ll see you then.”

 

***

 

“What are you doing here so early?” Jo asked, grabbing one of the breakfast burritos Dean had cooked up in the kitchen.

“I’m making pies, so I figured I should get a head start,” Dean said, getting the dough ready for the base. He was planning on making an apple, lemon meringue, cherry, and sweet potato pie. Those were his best ones, and he hoped Castiel liked them.

“It’s barely 7am, Dean. How long have you been here?”

“About an hour. I had to get the burritos done too.”

Jo laughed. “Dude, are you okay? You getting a fever or something?” She made a show of touching his forehead with the back of her hand. “You never come in to the diner so early.”

“I do, sometimes,” Dean mumbled.

“What’s with all the pies anyway? I thought you only made pumpkin during the holiday season.”

“They’re not for sale, technically.” Dean swallowed. “Cas is coming by later to try them out.”

“Ah. Okay. I see what’s happening here. You’re still trying to show off your mad pie-making skills to the poor guy.”

Dean smiled. “Sure. That’s it. You caught me.”

Jo gave him a funny look. “Alright. Well, keep at it. If you really think that’s a good use of your time, be my guest.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get a piece, too.”

“Can’t wait. Now, unlike you, I gotta get to work.”

“Have fun.” Dean winked.

Jo rolled her eyes and left.

Dean was done with all his pies by 11am. He was tired by then, so he took a lunch break. Dean didn’t like holing himself up in his office, so he usually ate at a table, or the counter. Today he chose the counter, so he could talk to Kevin while he took orders and made his awesome latte creations.

“What are you making?” Dean asked as Kevin played with the contents in a mug.

Kevin grinned. “I’m making a snowman.”

“Festive.”

“You want another Doctor Sexy?”

Dean shook his head. “No, don’t worry about me. I know you’re busy right now.”

“It’s no problem.” Kevin shrugged. “Besides, you’re the boss. Gotta kiss up.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Dean?”

Dean turned around when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Castiel was standing in front of him, cheeks pink, and a green scarf wrapped around his neck. His waistcoat was hidden underneath a gray pea coat, which was a damn shame.

“Cas.” Dean didn’t bother to hide his smile. “I wasn’t expecting you so early. I got the pies ready, though.”

Castiel grinned and it wrinkled his nose. It was endearing as hell. “I’m not here to eat the pies yet. I just wanted to drop this off.” Castiel handed Dean a paper cut. Then he lifted the lid, and Dean gasped. He gasped as if this was the greatest thing he’d ever seen. Castiel had drawn a detailed rose with the foam. It was, honest-to-God, beautiful.

“You made this?” Dean asked.

Castiel nodded, his cheeks getting pinker. “I’m not sure if you like latte art, but I do. I thought I might surprise you, since you brought that pie for me yesterday.”

Dean felt a flutter in his stomach that he hadn’t felt in years. It made him warm all over. “This is awesome, dude. I love latte art. Kevin does it for me all the time.” Dean motioned over at Kevin, and he waved at them. Castiel nodded his chin in his direction.

“I should head back to my business,” Castiel said, shifting on his feet. “We’re in the middle of rush hour, but I needed a short break. I’ll stop by in the afternoon for the pies.”

“I’ll be here,” Dean said, unable to stop smiling. His face was starting to hurt.

Castiel walked to the door, and then glanced over his shoulder to glance at Dean one last time before he left. Dean made sure Castiel made it to the other side of the street safely before he turned back to his latte rose.

“That’s the guy you hated so much yesterday?” Kevin asked.

Dean took a sip of his latte, thinking he’d never tasted something so good in his life. “Hate? No. I never hated him. I just didn’t know him.”

“He looks nice,” Kevin said. “And he has talent.”

“Yeah, he does.” Dean took another sip, checking the time on the clock. It would be a long day.

  

***

 

It was a little after 6pm when Castiel showed up. Dean was behind the counter, ringing up a to-go order. As soon as he saw Castiel, he let Jo take over.

“Hey, Ash, can you help me carry these pies to that table over there?” Dean asked.

“Sure thing, boss.” Ash grabbed two of the pies, and Dean grabbed the other two. They brought them over to a both that was near the window.

Dean led Castiel to the booth and offered him something to drink.

“I’ll have a black tea, if you have any,” Castiel said.

“I’ll bring it for you,” Dean said, rushing to the kitchen to rummage through their selections of teas. His hands were shaking when he poured the hot water into a mug. _Way to be cool, Winchester._

There was something about Castiel that rattled Dean, inside and out. In a good way. In the best way.

When Dean returned, Ash had already set up the plates and silverware for them. Dean wanted to hug the guy, but he was already back in the kitchen.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Dean said, sitting opposite Castiel.

“I am,” Castiel said, another smile on his face. Dean thought he would never get tired of his smiles. “I finished the entire pie you brought me yesterday. I have no regrets.”

“Music to my ears,” Dean said. “Pies are meant to be eaten, not saved for rainy days.”

“I’m glad to know you feel that way,” Castiel said. “Gabriel judged me for devouring your pie in just a few hours. He also called me a traitor, for preferring your pies over mine.”

Dean laughed. “I don’t think you have a lot to worry about. I ate your pumpkin pie last night. All of it. Couldn’t even tell the difference.”

“Really?” Castiel seemed surprised. “I didn’t think you would like it.”

“It was great, man. If you want to change anything, I’d say use double the nutmeg, and less of the cinnamon. What milk did you use to replace condensed milk?”

“Almond.”

Dean considered that. “Try coconut milk. I think that would give it a kick.”

Castiel nodded, like he was taking a mental note. “I’ll make another one for you tomorrow.”

Dean grinned. “We’re going to get so fat eating all this pie.”

“I’m okay with that.”

They started with the apple, which was Dean’s favorite. Castiel took a bite, and it was sinful hour all over again. The man could not hide his delight, and it made Dean’s heart leap a few times. Then they moved on to the cherry, which Castiel ate in record time. He ate it so fast that there was a bit of cherry left on the corner of his lips. Dean reached over and wiped it clean with his thumb.

“Sorry. You had a little bit left there.”

Castiel licked his lips, and Dean followed the action, letting his eyes wander for just a second too long. “Thank you, Dean.”

“How about we move on to the sweet potato pie?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Dean cut up two pieces, and Castiel continued licking his lips, almost deliberately. Dean didn’t want to be a creep and stare, but it was so hard to resist. Especially because he wondered if Castiel was doing it intentionally. Did he want Dean to stare at his lips?

By the time they made it to the lemon meringue, Dean was so full, he thought his pants wouldn’t fit him anymore. But Castiel didn’t seem ready to stop without the last piece, so he ate one with him.

“Oh, Dean, this one is fantastic.” Castiel licked his fingers this time, and Dean’s mind went straight to the gutter. Dear God, Castiel was the most seductive pie eater Dean had ever met. He was driving him crazy.

“You like it?”

“I love it.” Castiel licked his lips again, and Dean heaved a shaky sigh.

“I’m glad you approve.”

Castiel looked sedated and happy. “How did you learn to make pies this good?”

“My mom taught me,” Dean said. “She raised me and my brother on her own. We didn’t have much growing up, but there was always pie. She would spend every weekend making pie, and I would always stand beside her, asking her all sorts of questions, wanting to replicate all her recipes. When she got sick, I was still making her pies. Even when she couldn’t eat them anymore.” Dean grew quiet for a moment, wondering why he was sharing all of this. “Now I take one to her graveside every year. It’s tradition.”

“Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry.”

Dean shrugged. “It was about five years ago, so it’s not so bad anymore. I promised myself I’d keep making her pies. And when I have children, I’m going to teach them to make them too.”

Castiel placed a tentative hand on top of both of Dean’s hands on the table. “You’re a beautiful person, Dean. I hope you know that.”

Dean held Castiel’s gaze until it was too much and he had to look away. “This is probably way more than you signed up for when you came in here for pie.”

Castiel chuckled softly. “Yes. You’ve exceeded all of my expectations.”

“Thanks again for the latte,” Dean said, since he was out of words.

“It was my pleasure.” Then Castiel’s hand was gone, and he was checking his phone. “I have to go, Dean. I’m sorry I can’t say longer. I’ll be back tomorrow with another pumpkin pie for you. And a latte, since I know you like them.”

“You don’t have to. Really. I’m being spoiled.”

Castiel shrugged. “Maybe I want to spoil you.”

And with that, he was gone.

 

***

 

The next day, Dean showed up at the Roadhouse bright and early. Again, Castiel hadn’t said what time he’d show up, and since Dean didn’t want to miss him, he needed to be prepared. He wasn’t sure what it was about the guy, but Dean really enjoyed his company.

Dean was chatting up a few of his regulars at the counter when he heard the front door open. He stood up straight when he noticed Sam. It’d been weeks since Sam had showed up at the Roadhouse. It was on his commute to school, but he rarely took the time to stop by anymore. Dean wasn’t sure why his brother had decided to surprise him today, but he was glad for it.

“Sammy, how you doing?” Dean moved around the counter to hug Sam, who towered over him.

“Oh, you know, just freezing my butt off,” Sam said with a smirk.

Dean messed up his hair, and Sam batted away his hand. “What brings you here? Need some coffee?”

“Actually, yeah, that sounds good.” Sam searched the room until he found Kevin. “Hey, man, mind getting me my usual?”

“Hey, look who it is!” Kevin said, approaching them. “I thought you were hiding from us.”

“I was,” Sam said, “but then I realized I couldn’t hide forever.”

Kevin laughed, clapping Sam’s shoulder. The gesture looked a little funny, considering Sam looked like an actual moose standing next to Kevin. “One French vanilla coming up.”

When Kevin left, Dean looked at Sam, expectantly. “You got some free time? We could sit.”

“Well, I do have to get to class, but I wanted to talk to you first.” Sam shifted on his feet, digging his hands in his pockets.

Dean gestured for an empty table, and Sam followed hesitantly. Once they were facing each other, Dean asked, “What’s bugging you, Sammy?”

Sam let out a deep breath. “I’m going to ask her out, Dean.”

Dean let that sink in for a moment. “Ask who? That girl from undergrad? Jess?”

Sam blushed at the mention of her name, and he looked wildly around the place. “You don’t have to be so loud, Dean. Geez.”

Dean resisted the urge to laugh. “Alright. Well, what’s the game plan?”

“I was going to go to class,” Sam said, checking the time on his phone with a frown. “Although at this rate, I might just skip it for the day. Then I was going to meet her at her favorite coffee shop, and ask her there. Is that too corny? I mean, Dean, I’m not exaggerating when I say she is way, way out of my league.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You say that about every girl. Look, Sammy, here’s the thing. You like this girl, and she likes you back, I’m assuming.” Sam nodded. “Then that’s all that matters here. You go tell her how you feel. And then bring her over. I wanna meet this girl.”

“Dean, come on. You’ll meet her when I bring her over for Christmas.”

“Not good enough,” Dean said, crossing his arms. “This girl, she’s clearly important to you, so I gotta make sure she’s not gonna screw you over like—”

Sam jumped. “We don’t have to talk about the past.”

Dean sighed. “Right. We don’t. So don’t make me bring it up. Bring her over. This weekend. I’ll make my famous lasagna.”

Sam ran a hand through his lengthy hair. “I haven’t even asked her out, and now I have to worry about introducing you two? What was I thinking coming to you for advice?”

Dean grinned. “You were thinking that your big bro gives the best advice, and you should always follow it. Obviously.”

Kevin popped in with Sam’s coffee in a to-go cup, and they caught up for a few minutes. Right as Kevin was leaving, Dean saw Castiel enter the diner. There was a box in one of his hands, and a cup in the other. Dean waved him over. Castiel approached their table slowly, his curious eyes narrowing on Sam.

“Cas,” Dean said, taking the box and cup from his hands and setting them on the table. “This is Sam, my brother. Sam, this is Cas. He owns Heaven’s Bistro.”

“It’s more of a partnership with my brother,” Castiel said, fidgeting with his blue scarf. “It’s nice to meet you, Sam.”

Sam shook his hand. “Nice meeting you too.” He looked at Dean, eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t know you were friends with the owner of the evil vegan place.” A smile.

Dean bolted to his feet, laughing forcefully. “Oh, Sam, you’re such a jokester. I’ve actually just started getting to know Cas—Castiel, and he’s been kind enough to bring me one of his pies, and a coffee.”

Sam grinned, standing up. “Well, I’m glad you two worked out the pumpkin pie issue.”

“It was never an issue,” Dean said, nudging Castiel’s side. “Right, Cas?”

“Not at all,” Castiel said.

“Hmm, I have an idea,” Sam said, rubbing his chin in an overly dramatic gesture. “Why don’t you invite Castiel over for dinner this weekend? Since you’re making me bring Jess, it would only make sense for you to bring someone else, right? We wouldn’t want you to feel like the third wheel, now would we?”

Dean glared at Sam, who only grinned wider. That sneaky little giant. “I don’t know if Cas would be interested in some boring dinner.”

“Boring?” Sam said. “But I thought you said you’re making your famous lasagna, Dean. I wouldn’t call your famous lasagna _boring_.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, and then looked at Castiel. He looked far too amused by the exchange. “Cas, would you, uh, like to join me, my brother, and his maybe-future-girlfriend for dinner this weekend?”

Castiel turned to Sam. “Maybe-future-girlfriend?”

Sam waved a hand. He didn’t look nervous at all anymore. “Details.”

Castiel looked at Dean, and then shot him one of his bright smiles. “I’d love to try your famous lasagna, Dean.”

Dean felt that same flutter in his stomach he’d felt the day before. He couldn’t stop smiling at Castiel, even when Sam cleared his throat and announced that he was leaving. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Don’t bother,” Sam said. “I see you’re busy at the moment. I’ll see you Saturday?”

Dean nodded. “Good luck!”

“Right back at ya,” Sam called on his way out.

Dean stood there for a moment, wondering why Sam had wished him luck. Dean didn’t need luck. Business was good. His family was good and healthy. His friends and employees were amazing. Life was good.

When Dean returned to the table, Castiel had taken Sam’s spot. He was texting on his phone with what Dean realized were really good-looking hands. He wasn’t sure who Castiel was talking to, but he always seemed to be checking his phone. Dean wouldn’t pry, though.

“So, you made a new pie?” Dean asked.

Castiel nodded absently, until he put away his phone. “Sorry. Yes, I did make a new one. I hope you like it.”

Dean opened up the box and took in the smell. It smelled indistinctly like one of his pumpkin pies, which oddly enough made him proud. Castiel had taken his suggestions to heart. Dean pulled out a fork from his jacket. “Do you mind?”

Castiel chuckled. “Just out of curiosity, Dean, why do you have a fork in your pocket?”

“I was expecting you,” Dean said, cutting up a big piece. He savored the pie before it hit his mouth, and when it did, Dean closed his eyes. It was an explosion of flavors. And it wasn’t exactly like his pies either. It was unique. It was so Castiel. Dean hummed in delight as he chewed, and when he opened his eyes, he noticed Castiel was watching him with wide eyes.

“Is it good?” Castiel swallowed.

“ _Is it good?_ ” Dean asked, taking another bite. “Dude, marry me.”

Castiel smiled, looking at his hands on the table. “I’m glad you approve.”

“You have talent, my friend.” Dean continued eating, until he became aware of his rudeness. “Shit, I forgot to bring a plate for you. I’m sorry. I’m just stuffing my face in front of you.”

“I don’t mind,” Castiel said, looking at Dean with a soft gaze. “I like your honesty. When you feel something, you say it. You act. You don’t hold anything back.”

Dean lifted his fork. “You’re not bad yourself, Cas.”

Castiel pushed the cup closer to Dean. “I brought you another latte.”

Dean reached for the cup and opened the lid to see the design inside. It was a swan. Just as detailed and intricate as the rose. Dean stared at it for a long time. And then he looked at Castiel, who was still watching him. “Cas.”

“I didn’t have much time this morning,” Castiel said, sheepishly. “I wanted to draw Saturn, and a few moons, but I messed up the first few times. It just looked like a lot of circles. I usually just do the art for myself. I never care how good it looks. But I wanted you to like it.”

“I do,” Dean said, earnestly. “It’s great. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Castiel licked his lips, and Dean didn’t pretend he wasn’t staring. “What should I bring this weekend for your dinner? I’m not the best when it comes to social interactions.”

“Just bring yourself,” Dean said. “I’ll cover the rest.”

Castiel nodded. “I’ll bring wine.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Alright. Bring wine.”

Castiel grinned. “What kind of pie will you be making?”

“Actually, I was planning on making something different. Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

“Will I?”

Dean shrugged. “I like to think I’m getting to know you better.”

“We’ll see.”

Dean sipped his coffee. “I almost feel guilty destroying your art.”

“I’ll make you a lot more. Feel free to destroy all of them.”

“A man after my own heart,” Dean said, and Castiel gave him a funny look.

They continued talking, jumping from subject to subject. Dean learned that Castiel had two brothers, but he only ever talked about Gabriel. His other brother was named Lucas, but that’s all he said about him. Castiel was a big fan of horror novels, but he preferred reading from independent publishers because he said there were hidden gems there. Dean wanted to ask about his tattoo, but he decided against it, especially because talking about it would lead to more staring.

When Castiel finally had to go, Dean walked him to the door. There was a brief moment when Dean had the sudden impulse to hug Castiel goodbye. It was odd because Dean wasn’t much of a hugger, unless it involved Sam—but he mostly did it to tease him. This felt different. This was a need that had grown inside of Dean, and it pulled him closer to Castiel. Before he could stop himself, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and drew him in. Castiel let his arms rest at his sides for a few seconds, and then he wrapped them around Dean’s waist. It was intimate, and Dean relished in the closeness of it. When they pulled away, Castiel looked a shade pinker, but also a little bit dazed. Dean wondered if Castiel had felt the same thrill he’d felt.

“I’ll see you Saturday?” Dean asked.

“Yes. I’ll be there.”

Dean leaned against the door as he watched Castiel cross the street and make it to the other side safely.

“What was that?”

Dean turned around to see Jo, Ash, and Kevin all gawking at him. “What? He brought me another pie.”

“And a latte,” Kevin said.

“He’s a friend,” Dean said, heading back to the table to pick up his things.

“You’re getting real cozy with your friend,” Jo said.

“What’s your point?”

“I thought we hated him,” Ash said. “I need to catch up.”

“Why would I hate him?” Dean asked. “The guy is nice, and he makes delicious pies. I have no reason to hate him.”

“But you have all the reasons to like him?” Jo asked.

Dean sighed, turning back to his friends. “I’m going to finish my pie in my office.”

“Looks like you don’t need me to make your lattes anymore,” Kevin called after him.

Dean shut the door behind him. He could still hear the muffled commentary of his friends, but all he could think of was the comfortable feeling of Castiel in his arms. Dean was in trouble. He was in sooo much trouble.

 

***

 

Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. Dean had been dreading the day for fear of all the things that could go wrong. But he couldn’t help the excitement he felt every time he remembered Castiel would have dinner with him. And Sam and Jess, of course. Sam had successfully asked out Jess, and Dean was dying to meet her.

Dean was in the middle of preparing his lasagna when the doorbell rang. He wasn’t expecting his guests for another hour, so he cursed whoever had showed up unannounced. When he opened the door and saw Castiel, wearing a big brown trench coat and holding a bottle of wine, Dean’s mood significantly improved.

“Cas, hey, I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.” Dean took the wine from Castiel and ushered him into the living room. “Have a seat. I’m still getting dinner ready.”

“Could I help?” Castiel asked, removing his trench coat. It was a bulky thing, but once it came off, Dean was glad surprised to see Castiel had forgone his waistcoat for a gray wool sweater, and a yellow scarf.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure. You can help me make the salad.”

They went into the kitchen, and Dean brought out the cutting board for Castiel. They worked side by side at the kitchen island. After Dean finished up the lasagna and put it in the oven, he moved on to the dessert. He was making a peanut butter brownie trifle, and although he was hoping no one was allergic to peanuts, he made a separate one without peanut butter, just in case.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, mixing the salad.

“Yeah?” Dean glanced at him. They stood close together, even though the area was large enough for the two of them.

“Why don’t you have a Christmas tree up yet?” Castiel wondered. “Christmas is a little over a week away. I’m afraid your diner is more festive than your home.”

Dean blinked. “Huh. I hadn’t noticed. I guess I don’t usually get in the Christmas mode. I mean, I used to, before—but now it’s different, I guess.”

Castiel squinted. “Have you done your Christmas shopping yet?”

Dean laughed. “I’m the kind of guy that gives out gift cards.”

Castiel cringed. “To friends _and_ family?”

“Yeah. I never take the time to go all out. I blame it on the diner, but really, I’m just not into it anymore. I don’t know. Never really thought about it.”

Castiel wiped his hands on a clean towel, and then touched Dean’s arm. His touch was soft but firm, and Dean stopped working on his dessert. “If you’re willing, I’d like to help you decorate your home. Maybe it doesn’t make a difference to you, but I think, on some level, it’s nice when you come home to a Christmas tree in December. Something about it just feels right. To me, at least.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You’d really go through all that trouble just to put a Christmas tree in my living room?”

Castiel averted his eyes. “I could also help you pick out presents.”

Dean leaned against the counter. “Everyone will be so disappointed not to get gift cards this year.”

“They’ll just have to accept their personalized gifts.” Castiel moved his hand down Dean’s arm until it reached his hand. He gave it a light squeeze. “What do you say, Dean?”

“I don’t see why not,” Dean said. The thought of decorating his home seemed a little pointless, considering the short amount of time he spent there. Not to mention he would be spending Christmas at the Harvelle’s. But Castiel seemed to want to do this for Dean. Who was Dean to deny him?

Castiel beamed. “When are you free?”

“I have to work tomorrow,” Dean said, considering. “I have to work all week, actually.”

“You’re the boss,” Castiel said, holding Dean by the shoulders. “You deserve a day off.”

Dean smiled. “I guess I do. How does Wednesday sound to you?”

“Perfect,” Castiel said, lowering his hands. Dean instantly missed his touch. “I will pick you up at seven o’clock.”

“In the afternoon?”

Castiel gave him a look. “No, Dean. In the morning.” Dean was about to protest when Castiel placed his hand over Dean’s mouth, inching closer. “I know for a fact that sometimes you go in to work at 6am. I understand this will be your day off and you’d rather sleep in than wake up at ungodly hours.” Dean nodded. “But I promise I will make it worth your early rise. Trust me.”

With Castiel’s hand gone, Dean sighed in defeat. “Fine. I’ll make the sacrifice for you.”

Castiel looked entirely too smug about that the rest of the evening. They were both still working on dessert when Sam and Jess arrived. Dean instantly clicked with Jess, who brought a box of chocolates for Dean. They teamed up together to tease Sam. Dean knew she was the one. Castiel helped Dean set the table, even though Dean complained that he was a guest. But over the course of the night, Dean realized that Castiel was as stubborn as they came, and there was nothing he could do to change his mind.

Dean’s dinner table had so much laughter. Dean wasn’t sure if it was the wine, or the company, but he was feeling warm inside. When Dean had originally imagined this night, he’d picture himself making a fool of himself in front of Castiel. It seemed impossible now, seeing as Castiel laughed at all of Dean’s jokes, even the ones that weren’t funny. It was easy to be himself around him.

“I can wash the dishes,” Jess said, picking up the plates from the table.

“No, no, come on, you don’t have to worry about that,” Dean said, following her into the kitchen.

“Seriously, I don’t mind,” Jess said. “You did all the cooking. It’s the least I can do.”

“You know, when Sammy said you were out of his league, I didn’t believe him,” Dean said. “Boy was I wrong.”

Jess laughed. “Is that why he took so long to ask me out? I was about to do it because I figured he was too shy to make the first move.”

“Sammy? Shy? Nah, forget it.”

“It must be a Winchester gene,” Jess said. “You boys get so nervous around the people you like.”

Dean chuckled. “What?”

“You and Castiel?” Jess asked, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Me and Cas?” Dean snorted. “We’re just friends, Jess.”

“Right.”

“Did you think there was something going on between us?”

Jess shrugged. “I figured since he was here making dinner with you that you were together. Not to mention the way he looked at you all through dinner. It was like you were a ray of sunshine after a rainy day.”

Dean stood in the middle of his kitchen, feeling his pulse rising. “We, uh, we’re not together. But Cas is…”

“I’m what?” Castiel asked from the kitchen doorway.

“You’re my friend,” Dean said, unable to think of anything clever. At least it wasn’t a lie.

“I’d hope so,” Castiel said. “Sam was wondering about dessert.”

“Of course he was.” Dean opened the fridge. “Tell him I’ll bring it right out.”

When Castiel left the kitchen, Jess threw Dean a knowing look.

“What? He _is_ my friend.”

“If you say so,” Jess said, getting back to the dishes.

Dean grumbled nonsense under his breath as he brought out the trifles. After dessert, Sam and Jess said they had to leave because, due to their extremely busy schedules, they both had to get home early. Dean walked them both to the door and made sure they made it in the car safely before he shut the door.

Castiel had made himself comfortable in the living room couch, flipping through the channels. Dean liked how easily Castiel made himself at home in Dean’s house. It was like he belonged there.

“What are we watching?” Dean asked, joining him on the couch. They sat close enough that their knees touched.

“ _Friends_ ,” Castiel said, settling on the channel.

“God, I hate Ross,” Dean said, scoffing at the TV.

“Me too. Rachel was too good for him.”

“Phoebe was always my favorite,” Dean said. “I think I identified with her the most ‘cause I always thought she was bi, like me.”

Castiel turned to him. “You know, I always thought the same. It’s a shame she never got to date a girl in an episode.”

“They want you to believe that Rachel would give up living in Paris to be with Ross, but not that Phoebe would date a girl? That’s bullshit.”

“They should have given Phoebe a girlfriend, Chandler and Joey should have married each other, and Rachel and Monica should have run away together to become the next Thelma and Louise.”

“Yes!” Dean sat up, excited. “And Ross should have gotten a job at the zoo since he loves monkeys so much. We don’t have to know what happens to Ross after that.”

“Exactly. This writes itself.”

Dean sat back, his head half on Castiel’s shoulder and half on the couch. “It nice, you know, having you here.”

“It’s nice to be here.”

Two episodes of _Friends_ later, Dean’s head was completely resting on Castiel’s shoulder, and Castiel’s arm was wrapped around Dean. It was the most comfortable Dean had felt in years. Every time he was close to Castiel, Dean felt that way. Dean never wanted to move away from this moment. The world could burn to pieces outside, but in here, they would always be safe.

Dean felt Castiel’s laughter when his body shook with the movement. His own eyes had closed, but he hadn’t quite drifted off. He felt so relaxed. But then Castiel placed a gentle hand to Dean’s head and whispered into his ear, “Dean, sorry to wake you, but I have to go.”

Dean sat up straight, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Castiel was watching him with a soft smile, his hand slowly moving away from Dean. “I’ll walk you out.” Dean’s voice came out gruffer than he’d expected.

They walked to the front door, Castiel shrugging into his coat. It was a big thing, and he looked so small in it, but Dean liked it.

“Thanks for coming, Cas,” Dean said, yawning again. He was leaning on the doorway as Castiel stepped down to the front porch. Castiel stood at a close distance, eyes locked on Dean.

“I had a lovely time,” Castiel said, hands digging into his coat. “I’ll pick you up Wednesday.”

“Will I see you tomorrow at the diner?” Dean wondered, trying not to seem too eager, but failing miserably.

“Of course. I’ll swing by with another latte.”

Dean grinned. “I’ll make you lunch this time.”

“A burger?” Castiel asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Anything you want.”

Castiel looked at his feet, and even under the dim porch light, Dean could notice his cheeks reddening. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“You have my word, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.” Castiel looked at him again, with that same unfaltering intensity.

“Goodnight, Cas.” Dean blamed it on his sleepy brain when he pulled Castiel in for a hug. He blamed his sleepy brain for digging his head in Castiel’s neck and relishing in the comfort of his now-familiar smell. He blamed his sleepy brain for on holding on too long, and for biting his lip when he pulled away. It was all he could do to keep his cool.

Castiel swallowed, eyes wide when he glanced at Dean again. It was impossible, _impossible_ , that he hadn’t felt the same warmth and comfort Dean felt during that hug.

But Castiel didn’t say anything else before he turned and walked back to his car.

Dean watched him go, just like every other time.

 

***

 

Dean had seen Castiel at the Roadhouse every day leading up to Wednesday. Castiel always showed up, unprompted, with a latte that had something creative on it. There had been a Pac-man, a duck, and a fricken unicorn. Dean always drank his lattes, and then brought out lunch for both of them. Despite his strictly vegan restaurant, Castiel sure could appreciate Dean’s burgers. He devoured every single one of them, never leaving a piece behind. And after finishing his food, Castiel shamelessly picked at Dean’s plate. By the third time this happened, Dean simply pushed his plate forward and let Castiel have the rest of his fries.

They were good friends. Dean was still surprised by this. It had taken an entire year for them to even say hello to each other. And now they were getting ready to go Christmas shopping together like the stars of a Lifetime holiday movie. It was a lot for Dean, but he couldn’t complain. Dean loved Castiel’s company. And it appeared that the feeling was mutual. Castiel usually spent _hours_ at the Roadhouse, hours that he claimed he should be working at Heaven’s Bistro. But being the co-owner had a lot of perks, or so Castiel claimed.

When Wednesday came around, Dean grumbled unhappily when his alarm clock blasted a soft _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_. Despite how rich the song sounded, it had been loud enough to stir him from his sleep, so it could have just as easily been nails on a chalkboard. Dean forced himself out of bed, and in record time, he was dressed and ready to go.

Castiel showed up, too chirpy for the morning, holding two cups of coffee, one of which Dean took eagerly. “What’s with your hair?”

Dean glared at him over his coffee. “I didn’t have time to brush it. Shut up.”

Castiel chuckled, reaching over to brush Dean’s hair away from his face. “It’s getting long. Will you be getting a haircut soon or would you prefer letting it grow as long as Sam’s?”

Dean rolled his eyes, batting Castiel’s hand away. “I’m getting it cut. Today. Add it to the list.”

“I know how to cut hair,” Castiel said. “I could cut it for you, if you’d like.”

“A man of many talents, huh?” Dean said, grinning ear to ear. “Yeah, why don’t you have at it? I trust you.”

Castiel bounced on his feet. “Great. We’ll do it when we get back. Now finish your coffee. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Dean groaned. “I’m going to need at least two more of these.”

“I’ll be sure to keep you caffeinated throughout the day, alright?”

True to his word, Castiel made time for many coffee breaks. First, they went to the mall. It was, in simpler terms, chaotic. Dean hated big crowds, and he couldn’t stand long lines just to pay for a few items. Castiel caught on to that pretty quickly, so he dragged them away from the mall. They went to a much smaller store called Missouri’s Antiques. It was full of all sorts of things that somehow had a long history behind them. Castiel seemed to know the store very well because he led them in all sorts of directions through the mess.

Dean took the time to talk about all the people in his life so Castiel could better help him choose something that each one of them would like. Castiel was pretty good at that, too. Dean found a sturdy fishing rod for Bobby, a tea set for Ellen, a record player for Jo, an old leather-bound edition of _A Tale of Two Cities_ for Kevin, a telescope for Ash, and a painting for Jess. The last person Dean needed to find something for was Sam, but nothing felt good enough for his little brother. Castiel insisted on going to a different store for Sam’s present, but Dean was beat. Even with their quick lunch break, he was sick of shopping, and they still had to pick up the tree.

After much debating that mostly consisted of Dean grumbling and Castiel saying a stern, “Dean, please,” over and over, they finally settled on something. If they stopped their shopping short today, Dean promised to shop for Sam’s gift no later than Friday. Dean gave Castiel his word, and they went to pick out the perfect Christmas tree for Dean’s living room.

Dean almost had a heart attack when Castiel took him to a tree farm to pick out a _real_ Christmas tree. Dean had never, in his twenty-nine years of life, had a real Christmas tree. His family believed in fake Christmas trees and nothing more. But as Dean had learned from his time spent with Castiel, it was futile to argue with him when his mind was set on something. Besides, the tree smelled pretty darn homey once he brought it into his house.

Castiel trimmed Dean’s hair, his smooth hands brushing Dean’s hair was pleasant. Dean was fairly surprised when he looked at himself in the mirror and had no complaints about his haircut. Castiel looked proud of his work.

They spent the rest of the day wrapping presents, and they were now lazily decorating the tree. Lazily, because Dean kept pausing to watch the movie. _Jingle All the Way_ was on. Dean might not be big on Christmas, but he could never resist a Schwarzenegger classic. At some point, Castiel had snuck off into the kitchen and made them hot chocolate. Dean accepted his cup and took a careful sip. Castiel joined him on the floor, leaning their backs on the couch.

“This is good,” Dean said, taking a longer sip. “Mini marshmallows?”

“I picked them up when we were out,” Castiel said.

“You think of everything.” Dean nudged Castiel softly. “Where have you been all my life?”

Castiel smiled into his hot chocolate. “Across the street.”

Dean looked back at the screen, but he could feel Castiel’s gaze on him. A shiver ran down Dean’s spine, so he took another sip. “Hey, Cas—”

The moment Dean turned his head, Castiel crashed against him. Judging by the awkwardness on his face, it appeared that he’d been going in for a kiss, but Dean’s face wasn’t exactly at the right angle, so they just bumped noses. An Eskimo kiss.

Castiel flushed immediately, setting down his cup on the coffee table and clearing his throat.

“Cas,” Dean said, almost in a whisper. He set down his cup next to Castiel’s.

“Sorry,” Castiel mumbled.

“Cas,” Dean said again, half smiling, leaning closer.

“What?”

Dean smiled even more at the snap in his tone. Castiel was bitter now because his attempt at a kiss had gone so wrong. It was the cutest thing Dean had ever seen, and he’d seen Castiel in a waistcoat before.

So without wasting anymore time, Dean pushed forward and cupped Castiel’s face in his hands, gently, because Castiel was warm and Dean’s hands were cold, and he didn’t want to startle him. Castiel’s deep blue eyes looked back at Dean, and then they fluttered close right as Dean leaned in to press their lips together.

The first kiss was slow. Just a brush of lips, soft and sweet with a hint of chocolate. Then Dean parted his lips, and Castiel wasted no time pushing his tongue inside his mouth. Dean moved one of his hands to tangle in Castiel’s hair, which was smooth as silk. Castiel pressed his hands to Dean’s chest, and slowly moved them around Dean’s neck. Somehow, they turned on the floor, and Dean found himself pinned against the couch with Castiel fully on his lap.

Dean moaned when Castiel nipped his lower lip, and he arched his back when Castiel moved his mouth to Dean’s neck. They were both breathing heavily, and it was fantastic. Dean held onto Castiel’s lower back, pressing him closer, and Castiel gasped with the friction. Dean captured Castiel’s lips again, already missing the taste of him.

They’d fallen into a pattern. Castiel pressed down, and Dean pushed up, and they kissed for what felt like too long and too short of a time. What was time anyway?

Dean was much too happy to stay there on the floor making out for the rest of time, but Castiel pulled away and pressed their foreheads together. Dean waited to open his eyes until his breathing stabilized.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered against his lips.

“Cas,” Dean whispered back. “Want to spend the night?”

Castiel smiled. Then his smile disappeared. “I can’t. I have to go.”

“Now?” Dean frowned. His arms tightened around Castiel’s waist, already dreading his absence.

“It’s late,” Castiel said. Before he could climb off of Dean’s lap, he kissed Dean again. One, two, three lingering kisses that had them gasping all over again. “I really have to go.”

“Okay,” Dean said, kissing him again. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“You have to let me go first,” Castiel said against his lips.

Dean groaned, untangling his arms from Castiel’s waist. Castiel’s lips were red and swollen, and Dean just wanted to kiss him again and again. Castiel laughed as he evaded Dean’s kiss. He stood up and helped Dean to his feet. Dean walked Castiel to the door.

For a moment, they just stood at the door, staring at each other. Castiel’s hair was absolutely rumpled from Dean’s fingers caught in it. Dean licked his lips, smirking.

“That’s not fair,” Castiel said, narrowing his eyes.

“Stay, and you can have anything you want,” Dean said. He didn’t know where all his confidence came from. All he knew was that Castiel looked like he was considering his offer.

“I really can’t,” Castiel said with a sigh. “Another time.”

Dean held the door open. “Another time.”

Castiel stepped onto the porch, his back turned to Dean. Before he stepped away, Castiel spun around and pulled Dean down for a kiss. It was quick and sweet, but Dean felt like he’d suddenly grown wings in that moment. Castiel finally pulled away, his hands on Dean’s chest, holding him back.

“I can’t get enough of you,” Castiel muttered.

Dean covered one of Castiel’s hands on his chest. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Castiel cleared his throat, composing himself. “I will bring you another latte.”

“I can’t wait.” Dean grinned, and Castiel stared at him for a long time before he turned around and left without any more interruptions.

Dean waited until Castiel pulled away to close his door. And then, like a giddy teenager, Dean leaned against his door, smiling like an idiot.

 

***

 

The next morning, Dean got to work early. He’d hardly slept the night before. But he’d never felt better. He’d worked all morning making breakfast burritos for his employees, and he’d had enough time to spare to make an apple pie. Sometimes, it was good to go back to the basics.

Everyone noticed his chirpy mood. Jo thought it was uncharacteristic of him, and she pestered him with questions.

“I’m fine, Jo,” Dean said, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“Uh-huh, sure you’re fine,” Jo said. “Since when do you sing while you make pie?”

“Since I learned I had a better voice than you,” Dean said.

Jo gasped. “Every time I sing karaoke, you tell me I sound great!”

Dean snorted. “I’m a liar. What else did you expect?”

“Kev, do I really sound bad when I sing?” Jo asked.

“Keep me out of it,” Kevin said, making one of his lattes.

“Ash—”

“Nope,” Ash said.

Jo glared at Dean. “I hate you.”

Dean served a piece of his pie and pushed it closer to Jo. “Have some pie. It’ll make you happy. I can sense you need it with that look you’re giving me.”

“Shut up.” Jo grumbled something else under her breath before taking the pie and disappearing into the kitchen.

Dean continued smiling even as the lunch crowd brought in a few picky customers that he had to deal with. It was fine. Nothing could ruin his mood.

Dean was writing down a to-go order when he heard the front door open. He put the order in the kitchen and turned to greet his next customer. “Good morning. What can I get you today?”

Castiel was holding a cup of coffee in his hands. “I’ll have a cheeseburger, fries, sweet tea, and a few minutes of your time.”

Dean beamed, taking in the purple scarf Castiel had wrapped around him. It matched his waistcoat. “I’ll have it right out for you. Please, have a seat.”

“How much do I owe you?” Castiel asked.

“One latte will do.”

Castiel handed him the cup. “Perfect. Keep the change.”

Dean removed the lid to find the perfectly shaped lips drawn on the latte. Dean glanced back at Castiel, who was watching him carefully. “Is this a hint?”

“I will admit, it’s not very subtle.” Castiel shifted on his feet. He was nervous. Dean wanted to kiss him in front of everyone just so he had something to be nervous about.

“Ash,” Dean called over his shoulder. “I’m taking my break. Take over the register, would ya?”

“You got it, boss.”

Dean followed Castiel to an empty booth. They sat across from each other.

“How’s it going, Cas?” Dean asked, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t working.

“I’m great,” Castiel said. “Heaven’s Bistro has been busy all morning. I see that the Roadhouse is busy as well.”

“Did you come to talk about our restaurants?” Dean asked, amused.

“I came to see you,” Castiel said, holding Dean’s gaze. “You look…nice.”

“Nice?”

“I wanted to say beautiful, but I’m not sure you’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll take it.” Dean shrugged. “You look good enough to eat.”

Castiel chuckled. “Are you flirting?”

“Not well, apparently.”

Castiel smiled. “Your efforts have been noted. Thank you, Dean. I’ll take your compliment as well.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “About yesterday, do you, uh, want to come over tonight? I set my DVR to record some of the worst Hallmark movies, if you’re interested.”

“I do love cheesy films,” Castiel said.

“…But?”

“But I can’t tonight,” Castiel said, frowning. “I have to get home early. However, I was planning on dropping by after work, around six.”

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked, leaning forward.

“Yes.”

“Why does it sound like you have a curfew?”

Castiel swallowed. “I have responsibilities to attend to, Dean.”

“Such as?”

“I would rather not get into that yet. I hope you understand.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course I do. I won’t pry.”

Castiel covered Dean’s hand on the table. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you here at six, then?” Dean turned his hand to hold Castiel’s hand.

“Yes. But I can stay and eat lunch with you now,” Castiel said as Jo walked over to their table with Castiel’s order.

Jo hovered by the table. “Hey, Castiel, funny seeing you here. Again.”

“I came to see Dean,” Castiel said bluntly.

“Did you?” Jo looked at Dean. “Would you look at that?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Are you retaliating for the bad singing comment?”

“Me? I’m not doing anything.” Jo crossed her arms, looking down at Castiel. “What are your intentions with Dean? He’s like a brother to me. Don’t pretend you weren’t getting all cozy with him just now.”

Castiel tilted his head, still looking at Jo. “I can assure you I only have the best intentions in regards to Dean. I care about him.”

“Oh.” Jo blinked. “Well, okay, I guess. Good to have you around, man.”

Dean waited for Jo to leave to brush his leg against Castiel’s under the table. “You care about me?”

“I do,” Castiel said, chewing on a fry. “I hope the feeling is mutual.”

Dean stole one of Castiel’s fries. “Sure is.”

Castiel blushed, and Dean went in for another fry. “Just because I like you doesn’t mean you get to steal my food.”

“Not even if I made you apple pie?”

Castiel seemed to consider this. “Alright. You can have my fries.”

Dean grinned, playing footsie with Castiel.

*

That afternoon, Castiel showed up like clockwork. Right at six o’clock, the front door opened, letting in Castiel with a brush of cold wind.

Dean brought out the pie and they ate it at the counter, sitting on opposite sides. They’d been talking softly for a while now, mostly about nothing important, but it was a fascinating conversation. Mostly, he just enjoyed the long stares Castiel was giving him, and the soft brushes of their hands.

When they’d both finished their pieces of pie, Dean stood up straight. “Hey, you want to come into my office? I have something to show you.”

Castiel looked confused before realization struck him. “Yes, show me what’s in your office.”

Dean left Kevin in charge as led Castiel into his small office. It was cluttered with old paperwork, but Dean shut the door behind them and pressed Castiel against the door. Dean kissed Castiel with an intensity that surprised him. Ever since Castiel left Dean’s home the day before, Dean had done nothing but think about kissing him again. The anticipation kept him going through the day, but _this_ is what Dean had been craving.

Now that he had Castiel so close, their lips locked, Dean tried to slow down, to savor the moment. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and kissed him just as eagerly. Dean kissed down Castiel’s neck, until he reached the wings tattoo, but he was too busy to take a closer look at it. Dean sucked a hickey next to it, which made Castiel moan and whimper. Castiel maneuvered Dean until they were kissing again, and Dean roamed his greedy hands under Castiel’s waistcoat.

“I missed you,” Dean said.

“I missed you too.” Castiel nibbled on Dean’s ear. “So much.”

Dean moved his hands down to cup Castiel’s ass, pushing him closer. Castiel gasped into Dean’s lips. “Don’t go yet.”

“Dean.”

“Can I keep you?”

Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead. “I’d love to stay here with you. More than anything. But I have to get home.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain everything soon,” Castiel promised, kissing Dean’s nose.

“Will you spend the night?”

Castiel chuckled, leaning his forehead on Dean’s shoulder. “You’re relentless.”

“I want you.”

Castiel lifted his head to look Dean in the eyes. “So do I.”

“But you have to go.”

“Yes.”

Dean nodded. “I’ll walk you out.”

Smiling softly, Castiel pressed a few more kisses to Dean’s face, ending on his lips, where he kissed him slowly.

Dean walked Castiel to the door, and stood there watching as Castiel took a step off the sidewalk. Just as always, Castiel didn’t look to the sides before crossing the street. That’s why he didn’t notice the truck turning the corner, speeding. Oblivious, Castiel kept walking forward.

 Dean didn’t have time to process anything. He didn’t know if the truck was planning to stop, or if it would even be able to at the speed it was going. Dean only acted. He ran out the door, ran until he reached Castiel, and he crashed into him. Both of them landed on the other sidewalk, but Dean felt something sharp hit his head. A stabbing pain was all he felt before he passed out.

 

***

 

“Is he in a coma?”

The voice was unfamiliar, but Dean was having trouble opening his eyes, so he couldn’t see who it was coming from. He was still half-asleep after all.

“No, he isn’t in a coma.” That was Castiel. Dean recognized his voice.

“Is he going to die?”

“No, he isn’t going to die, Lucas. Why don’t you go wait outside?”

“I want to see him when he wakes up.”

“Try to find Sam, then. He’s at the vending machines.”

“You mean the tall one with the hair?”

“Yes, that’s Sam. Go find him. Here’s some change if you want anything.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

The door opened, and then closed. A few seconds later, Dean opened his eyes. He was in a white room. There was a TV on the wall. The news was on.

“Dean?”

Dean turned to the voice. Castiel was standing next to his bed. “Cas.”

“Dean, how are you feeling?” Castiel had a scrape on his left cheek.

“You’re hurt,” Dean said. That’s when he remembered the truck coming full speed. Dean had pushed him out of the way. But then he couldn’t remember anything. “What happened?”

“You saved my life,” Castiel said. “I didn’t see the truck. You ran to me. But when we landed, you hit your head. The doctor said you don’t have a concussion, just a few bruises. We were worried.”

“We?”

“I called Sam,” Castiel said. “I found his number in your phone. I hope you don’t mind.”

Dean nodded, but his head was throbbing. “Was there someone else in the room?”

Castiel swallowed. “Yes. Lucas, my little brother.”

“Oh.”

“He’s ten,” Castiel said, looking away. “I’ve recently become his guardian. He’s the reason I needed to get home so early every day. My father, he was negligent over him. I fought long and hard for Lucas’s custody. Just recently, a judge granted it to me. Because of my restaurant. I’d wanted to tell you before, but I didn’t exactly know how. I know this is a lot to take in.”

Dean reached for Castiel’s hand and held it as tight as he could. “I get it, Cas. You don’t need to explain anything to me. I’m glad you’re here.”

Castiel smiled. “Thank you. For saving me.”

“You would have done the same for me.”

Castiel nodded, leaning down to kiss Dean’s temple. “Can I get you anything?”

“Pie.”

“How about ice chips for now?”

Dean frowned. “Fine.”

When Sam walked in, a small boy that looked a lot like Castiel—except with blond hair—trailed behind him.

“You’re awake!” Sam cheered, chewing on a Snickers.

“I guess I am.”

“I was about to start calling you Sleeping Beauty,” Sam said.

“Well, don’t let my headache ruin your fun.”

Sam grinned. “The nurse will be right in with painkillers. You’ll be as good as new. Or as good as you were before. Whichever makes you feel better.”

The little boy—Lucas—stood beside Castiel. Dean turned to him and offered him a smile.

“Hi,” Lucas said quietly.

“Hey there,” Dean said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Cas likes you,” Lucas said.

“Really?” Dean winked at Castiel. “Turns out I like him too.”

“Are you okay?” Lucas asked.

“I’m doing pretty good, actually,” Dean said, as Castiel held his hand again.

Sam cleared his throat. “So, I don’t know if you guys have any plans for Christmas, but you’re more than welcome to join us. The Harvelle’s throw a pretty amazing Christmas party.”

Dean glared at Sam. “Why do you always ask Cas out for me?”

“Well someone has to!” Sam said.

“We’d love to come,” Castiel said. “But I’m afraid Gabriel will want to tag along as well.”

“Bring him along,” Sam said. “The more the merrier.”

Castiel smiled. “You’re very kind.”

“I’m just glad Dean found you,” Sam said. “He’s such a Grinch during the holidays. But now, look at him. Hit his head pretty hard and he’s smiling like it’s the best day of his life.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Dean, who was smiling a big goofy smile.

“Shut up,” was all Dean could say.

 

***

 

Castiel showed up to Ellen and Bobby’s house right on time. His punctuality was scary good. Dean greeted Lucas first, who was holding a stack of presents.

“Where can I put these?” Lucas asked.

“Right under the tree,” Dean said. “Next to Crowley.”

“Who’s Crowley?”

“The big black dog. He’s playful. Just don’t feed him any chocolate.”

Lucas nodded. “I’ll be very careful.”

Dean laughed. “Good.”

The man who stood next to Castiel looked nothing like him, but Dean could tell he was Castiel’s brother by the intensity of his gaze. Gabriel seemed to be measuring up Dean, and Dean didn’t know what to do about it.

“Hey, you must be Gabriel.”

Gabriel shook his hand. “You’re not so ugly.”

“Thanks?”

“Cassie likes you, so I must like you by default,” Gabriel said.

“Is that some kind of rule?”

“You tell me.”

Dean looked at Castiel for help.

“Don’t mind him,” Castiel said. “He’s teasing you.”

“Oh. Damn.”

Gabriel smirked. “You’re cool. He’s cool, Cas.”

“I’m glad you approve, Gabriel. Please move along now.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Gabriel asked, offended.

Castiel gave Gabriel a small shove down the hall. “Is it not obvious?”

“Shame on you, Cassie! Family comes first. No matter how hot your boyfriend is.”

Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Is there any candy, by any chance?” Gabriel asked Dean, seriously.

“There should be some in the kitchen.”

Gabriel clapped Dean’s shoulder. “You’re a keeper.”

“Gabriel,” Castiel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going.”

Once they were alone, Castiel greeted Dean with a soft kiss that felt more like a promise.

“Are you nervous that I’m meeting your entire family tonight?” Castiel wondered.

Dean held Castiel’s cold hands, blowing warm air on them. “No. I’m always glad you’re here, Cas. Are _you_ nervous about meeting my family?”

Castiel shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else tonight.”

Dean pressed a kiss to Castiel’s forehead. “I made your favorite.”

“Pumpkin pie?”

“Mmhmm,” Dean said, lowering Castiel’s red scarf as he kissed down his neck. When he found his tattoo again, he kissed it. “Can I ask you something?”

“Is it about my tattoo?”

Dean smiled sheepishly. “Yes.”

“I got it when I was eighteen. My mother named me and Gabriel after angels. For some reasons, she loved angels. She had this belief that angels were always around us. That they were these invisible celestial beings that watched over us, no matter who we were, or what religion we followed. When she died, I thought a tattoo of angel wings would be a good way to honor her memory.”

“Your scarf covers most of it up,” Dean said, tugging lightly on the red scarf.

“Lucas wasn’t named after an angel,” Castiel said. “I didn’t want him to feel left out.”

Dean stared at Castiel for a long moment. “Marry me.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, fine. Don’t marry me now. Marry me later. In a few years.”

Castiel lifted Dean’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “Ask me again in a year.”

“Wait until you eat my pie. Then you’ll be the one proposing.”

“You have big plans, don’t you?”

“With you? Oh yeah.”

Castiel laughed, leaning his head on Dean’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and pressed a kiss to his head. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

They stayed there a few seconds, minutes, hours, Dean couldn’t be sure. Eventually, though, pie was eaten, presents were opened, and laughter was shared. True to his word, Dean had gone out to buy Sam’s present later that week. Dean had found an ebook reader for his little brother, which came in handy with school. And for Castiel, Dean had found a scarf. Blue, with angel wings all over it.

Castiel threw his head back in laughter as soon as he saw it. “I love it. I’ll wear it right now.”

Dean opened his gift, the one Castiel had brought him. It was a mixtape. An actual mixtape. Like the ones people made back in the day. Dean was speechless.

“I couldn’t miss the opportunity,” Castiel said. “Your Impala is one of the few cars I’ve seen with a cassette player.”

“Damn right,” Dean said. “Cas, this is the best. Seriously.”

As everyone else kept opening presents, Dean opened his cassette tape. Inside, there was a note.

_I’ll stay tonight. Gabriel is babysitting._

Dean glanced at Castiel, and Castiel winked at him.

Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
